


I think you and the moon and Neptune got it right (and now I’m shining bright)

by Sapphire_blue



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, R plus L equals J
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 05:00:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5362325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapphire_blue/pseuds/Sapphire_blue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arya had always burned brighter, and Jon, well, Jon had always been enchanted by the light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I think you and the moon and Neptune got it right (and now I’m shining bright)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Naysa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naysa/gifts).



It was after supper when Jon was returning to his bed chambers from the kitchens that he was ambushed. The Royal Family was there having a feast in the Great Hall and a lowly bastard as him had no place feasting with them, or so the Lady Catelyn had said. Even thinking about the Royal Family put a bitter taste in his mouth. Just as he was about to turn the corner, a hand shot out from the shadows and latched onto his arms, pulling him towards a dark alcove. He would have struggled had he not caught a glimpse the pale arm and recognized his attacker.  
  
“Arya!”  
  
Arya, in all her childish glory, grinned up at him, “Hey, Jon.”  
  
“Don’t you ‘hey, Jon’ me, little sister. What are you doing in the shadows this late?”  
  
“Just lurking about, waiting for you,” she replied, still grinning.  
  
“Shouldn’t you be in the Great Hall?”  
  
“I threw food at Sansa,” she beamed, “she and Jeyne Poole were swooning over Joffrey.”  
Jon heaved a sigh, “And let me guess, you got sent to your chambers?”  
  
“I did,” Arya muttered after a pause, “But I wanted to see you, so I came here to wait for you.”  
  
“Again,” Jon smiled, “Why would you want to see me?”  
  
Arya gave him a look, her ‘I - can’t – believe - you’d - ask-me - this’ look, the look that always made her look more mischievous and radiant, “Can’t I want to see my favourite brother before I go to sleep?”  
  
“You can,” Jon intoned playfully, “But you have got an ulterior motive, I can tell.”  
  
“Fine, stupid. I need your help,” Arya admitted, standing on her tiptoes to look into his eyes properly, and Jon knew he was in trouble. He and Arya both knew that he could never say no to her when she looked into his eyes. “Can you help me sneak Nymeria into my room?”  
  
“Why would you want to sneak her in?”  
  
She gave him a sardonic look, “Because she’s lonely, stupid.”  
  
Jon stared at her, “She is  _lonely_? With all her brothers and sister in the kennel, you think she’s  _lonely_?”  
  
“Shut up, Jon,” Arya pouted, and Jon sighed. Really, who was he trying to fool? He could have never said no to her, “Are you going to help or not?”  
  
Jon sighed before complying, “Fine, I will help you, but if your lady mother finds out, she will have my head.”  
  
She beamed at him, before grabbing his hands again and started dragging him down to the kennel, her laughter trailing behind them, making Jon’s breath catch in his throat. Only because he was afraid of getting caught, of course. Or, that was what he told himself as firmly as he could.  
  
“Only if she catches us!”

 

*   *   *

  
  
Jon peered around them suspiciously before urging Arya forward and out of the kennel. He was still surprised that they had gotten Nymeria out without all her siblings waking up and making a fuss.  
  
“Hurry up before the other pups wake up!” he whisper shouted at her, and she grinned at him, her eyes alight with mirth.  
  
“They are not really pups anymore, Jon,” she said, voice low with caution, and her hand caressed Nymeria’s fur, not even needing to kneel down anymore. Jon had to concede that in a few days, Nymeria would completely dwarf her.  
  
“They aren’t,” Jon said, “but you are.”  
  
Arya punched him none too gently in the ribs, “Shut up.”  
  
Jon chuckled lowly, “Let’s go, we can’t get caught.”  
  
“Yeah, but if we do get caught, you can just blame it on me,” she suggested as they walked cautiously out of the kennel.  
  
“Not sure your lady mother would buy that, little sister,” he mussed her hair, making the already tangled hair even more disheveled.  
  
Arya scowled, she never liked being reminded that her mother hated her husband’s bastard. Jon wished he could tell her that she more than made up for her mother’s resentment in spades, but with him him leaving for the Night’s Watch in a few days and Arya departing for King’s Landing, he figured any declarations of his undying love for her would likely have her crying and he hated it when Arya cried.  
  
“Jon, keep walking!” Arya muttered, “You’re slower than Maester Luwin.”  
  
Jon sped up his pace, and quickly crossed the yard, Arya already waiting for him on the other side, “Despite his age, Maester Luwin is as spry as ever. Don’t let his looks fool you, little sister.”  
  
She snorted, and Jon wondered what Lady Catelyn would say if she saw her daughter and him gallivanting through the castle together this late at night. She would likely arrange for him to leave for the Night’s Watch at the first light of the next morning.  
  
Jon shook off the thought; there was no use in overthinking things. Arya needed him now, and he couldn’t let her down. She probably wanted to have one last adventure together before they all went their separate ways, and even the trail of that thought made him melancholic. Arya was one of the few people who loved him unconditionally; losing her love would hurt terribly. He had no other choice, though, Winterfell would no longer be home with her and Father gone, and the Night’s Watch was the only place for him to go.  
  
“Yeah, let’s go before anyone finds us,” Jon urged Arya on, placing a hand where her neck met her shoulder and relishing in the touch of her skin.  
  
Losing Arya would hurt him terribly, indeed.

 

  
*   *   *

  
  
They came to a stop outside of Arya’s chambers, Nymeria giving a low whine at the abrupt halt.  
  
“Hush, girl,” Arya crooned, absently petting the direwolf’s fur.  
  
After a lot of soft footsteps and muttered curses, not to mention nearly being caught by the maids and the servants, and at one point, by Jory Cassel, they had finally managed to get to Arya’s bedchambers with Nymeria in tow.  
  
“Here we are, little sister,” Jon whispered gently.  
  
“Here we are, Jon,” Arya slowly looked up, a smile tugging at her lips, lips that were shining bright in the dimly lit hall outside her chambers. She must have managed to sneak some wine for herself at dinner, Jon mused absentmindedly.  
  
“Well, go on in,” he urged her.  
  
“I suppose I should,” Arya said, making no move to follow her words, “Well, you must kiss me goodnight then.”  
  
Jon chuckled and leaned towards her to press a gentle kiss on her forehead before moving away again, “Good night, little sister.”  
  
“A proper kiss, Jon!” Arya admonished, eyes luminous, “On the lips!”  
  
Jon almost missed a step, before he caught himself, and stared at her, “What?”  
  
“I heard Sansa and Jeyne giggle about how you must always kiss your true love goodnight,” Arya continued, somewhat unsettled by his surprise, “and you are my true love, so you must kiss me goodnight.”  
  
Jon didn’t know what to say, so he latched onto a familiar ground of conversation, “You don’t listen to Sansa’s songs, little sister.”  
  
“Maybe I don’t,” she snapped, and Nymeria head butted her gently, and Arya went on, somewhat gentler, “Look, in Sansa’s songs, the knight rescues the lady, and –“  
  
“I’m no knight,” Jon cut in bitterly.  
  
“And I’m no lady!” Arya countered, “Anyway, that’s not what matters. And I don’t need to be rescued by anyone, I can do that myself. So, I thought, why not rescue someone else together? That ought to be adventure.”  
  
“We didn’t rescue Nymeria,” Jon said, for lack of anything else to say, and Arya glared at him.  
  
“You’re missing the bloody point!” Arya almost screamed, “You’re my true love, and so you must kiss me. So, kiss me already.”  
  
Before Jon could even think of a response, Arya’s lips were on his, and they were soft, and Jon was drowning in her taste. But Arya was his little sister, and she was only nine, so he pushed her away and took a step back.  
  
“Good night, little sister,” he murmured and walked away, leaving Arya and her direwolf standing in front of her bed chambers, shining bright and beautiful, and committed the vision in his mind for the future where Arya would only be a lovely memory and a past that he would forever hold on to.

  
  
*   *   *

  
  
They never spoke of the night, not even when they said their goodbyes, as if a mere whisper would taint the sacred memory.

  
  
*   *   *

  
  
Years later, she would find her way back to him, and he would embrace her, vowing to never let her go again.  
  
They would sit in his chambers – he was Warden of the North now – And there would be tears in his eyes and he would know that she was his cousin, not his little sister.  
  
“Am I still your true love?” He would ask.  
  
She would smile at him – a beautiful smile that would have his heart ache from longing, yearning for the days when there were no shadows in their eyes, no ghosts haunting them – and she would say, “You always were, you still are, and you always will be.”  
  
And theirs would be a story of love, loss, and finding their way back to each other. Theirs would be a story that would never end, that would never fade, always burning brighter and brighter.  
  
And it would be glorious.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys for reading my work. Any kind of feedback is appreciated, so any thoughts, any comment, constructive criticism or just a simple kudo or a bookmark will make me smile. Really, they are all highly appreciated. Thank you!
> 
> Cheers,  
> Sapphire xx


End file.
